


Acting Queer

by grey853



Category: DS - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 13:45:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something fishy about Fraser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acting Queer

**Acting Queer**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Acting%20Queer)

* * *

Something was fishy about Fraser. He'd been acting queer all day, hush-hush phone calls and avoiding Ray's gaze, being all sneaky and sly like he wasn't working in a room full of detectives or something. He hadn't niggled a single time since the start of shift, going along with anything Ray said, no argument, no picking every theory to death before they actually did anything. Hell, if Ray didn't know better, he'd think Fraser was up to no good, but then he was talking about Fraser so he figured it must be something different, something Canadian maybe.  
  
Whatever the fuck it was, Ray was too tired to worry about it unless it kept up and got too weird. Then he'd have to take time off from chasing down bad guys to figure it out, piece it together, get to the bottom of what was up with Fraser acting all shifty-eyed and devious, all agreeable and too nice even for Fraser.  
  
Ray closed the folder on his desk and leaned back in chair, keeping a lookout for any hints about what the fuck Fraser was up to. "So, we finished for the day or what?"  
  
"We should probably type the final report for Lt. Welsh."  
  
"Yeah, probably, but I'm whipped and Welsh is gone for the day. It can wait until tomorrow."  
  
Fraser nodded and stood up, picking up his hat, turning it in his hands the way he did whenever he got nervous. "Quite right, Ray. We've more than put in a full day's accounting. We should be off."  
  
"Whoa."  
  
"Whoa?"  
  
"Yeah, whoa." Ray's eyes narrowed as he studied Fraser a little harder. Definitely queer, this new attitude of agreeing with Ray stuff. "You never want to leave before we finish the paperwork."  
  
Fraser danced a little, not making eye contact, doing the index finger in the collar for good measure. "As you pointed out, Lt. Welsh has gone for the day. Whether we do the paperwork now or in the morning, he won't see it until tomorrow."  
  
"Never stopped you before. So, what's up?"  
  
"The stock market is up, your hair is up, the rate of gasoline is-"  
  
"Stop." Ray shook his head and grabbed his jacket. "You don't want to tell me, that's okay by me."  
  
"Tell you what, Ray?"  
  
"Whatever's going on with you."  
  
"Going on with me? I assure you, nothing's going on with me as you put it. I'm fine."  
  
"Fine, huh? So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier when I was getting coffee?"  
  
Fraser's cheeks pinked up and he cleared his throat. "It's really not important."  
  
"Not important, huh? Was it a personal call or something?"  
  
"I really couldn't say." Before Ray could dig a little deeper, Fraser asked, "Ray, could I trouble you for a ride to-"  
  
"Sure, no problem." After a long day of humping the job, of pounding the pavement looking for scumbags, Ray was in no mood to grill his partner. So, he let it go, at least for the moment. "Come on. I'm sick of this place."  
  
They headed out together, side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder without talking. Once outside in the parking lot, Ray opened his door and got inside, waiting for Fraser to put the wolf in the back before sitting in the passenger's seat. Once Ray started the engine, Fraser asked, "Ray, would you care to join me for supper?"  
  
"Sure, okay."  
  
"It'd be my treat, of course."  
  
Ray hadn't pulled out of the parking space yet, which was probably a good thing since he'd likely have wrecked something and gotten whiplash. He turned in his seat to eye the man sitting next to him. "Your treat?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why what?"  
  
Fraser started in with the ear tug and the lip lick, all the tells that let Ray in on Fraser being nervous as hell. "Fraser, we always split the bill. Why treat me all of a sudden? Why mess with a good thing?"  
  
"Well, I couldn't very well say anything before, but I wanted to celebrate your birthday."  
  
"My birthday?"  
  
"Yes, your birthday." This time Fraser finally looked up and met Ray's gaze head on, no blinking, just a full on stare, a look not for the faint-hearted.  
  
"It's not my birthday."  
  
"Well, no, it's not Ray Vecchio's birthday, but it is Stanley Ray Kowalski's birthday."  
  
Everything clicked into place, how Fraser had gone out of his way to be extra nice, to do everything Ray's way to make it a great day, a special day just for Ray. "How did you know that?"  
  
"I did read your secret personnel file, Ray. I think I mentioned that."  
  
"Yeah, but you already gave me the dream catcher doohickey." Ray's heart choked a little at the thought of Fraser wanting to do something like that, to go to the trouble of celebrating his birthday when nobody else seemed to remember or care even a little. That was buddies, that was what friends did. It'd been a long time since he'd had that with anybody, and he had to admit it felt pretty good but kind of strange at the same time. "Fraser, you don't have to buy me dinner or anything."  
  
"I know that, Ray. Still, it's traditional to honor the person on the actual birth date." Fraser leaned in a little closer, his voice lower, like he was about to tell a secret. "I couldn't actually address the issue inside the station since we had the Vecchio birthday celebration a few months ago."  
  
"Yeah, we wouldn't want to blow my cover or anything."  
  
"Quite right. So, would you allow me to take you to supper?"  
  
Ray hesitated, but then shrugged, giving into the weirdness. "Sure, why not? I need to go home and get a shower first, though. I stink."  
  
Fraser sat up, smiling. "You were very brave to go into the trash container after the suspect's discarded weapon, Ray. I know your aversion to such things."  
  
"Hey, if Vecchio can go dumpster diving in the name of justice, so can I. Besides, I wanted to nail Burke's ass to the wall."  
  
"Still, I would've been more than happy to do the duty instead."  
  
"No reason to. Save the dry cleaning bills for later. So, my place first?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
As Ray headed out of the parking lot, he wondered what the hell Fraser was still not telling him. But hey, free food and good company, it all worked for the moment.

* * *

As they walked into his place, Ray slipped into his routine, taking off his jacket, his gun, securing it. Fraser made himself at home, too, making coffee and then boiling some water for tea. Dief settled in the side chair, the chair he'd pretty much claimed as his own. It's what they'd done for months now, coming back to Ray's place so Ray could get cleaned up. They either stayed in or went out, but it was almost always done together. Fraser usually went back home before midnight, but still, it was nice to have the company. Ray didn't miss hanging out alone one bit.  
  
"I won't be long, Fraser. I just need to wash the stink off."  
  
"Take your time, Ray."  
  
"Sure, okay."  
  
As Ray stripped off, he put his clothes in a separate plastic bag, hoping like hell a double shot of extra strength Tide would get all that muck out of his jeans and T-shirt. Luckily, he'd had enough common sense to take off his good leather jacket before jumping into the biggest, stinkiest pile of garbage in Chicago. Also, he was lucky he'd worn his running shoes and not his best boots to work or he'd really be crying the blues. They might be called shit-kickers, but he didn't want them to smell like it.  
  
Ray could've showered and changed at the station, but he hated the locker room with all its macho bullshit, so he'd waited. Now he was glad he had. He liked being home, being comfortable enough to just clean up knowing that Fraser was waiting, probably sitting on the sofa drinking tea, looking all calm and Mountie-like. Just the image in his head made Ray get all tingly.  
  
Naked, Ray headed for the shower, figuring he'd better take care of business before he went back out there and faced Fraser. It might be his birthday, but he wasn't expecting to hit the jackpot, not when it came to getting what he really wanted.  
  
Ray went to the bathroom first and then turned on the shower to get cleaned up and to jerk off. He made quick work of it, too, with lots of hot water and suds, his slippery hand doing the job he'd wanted to do all day. Ray came so hard, he cracked his skull against the tile, not that he felt it. Thinking about Fraser's mouth sucking him off kind of took the edge off any real blow to the head.  
  
By the time his vision cleared, the steamy water washed over his face and ran down his body. Any evidence would be rinsed away quickly. Grabbing the shampoo, Ray finished his shower, whistling, hoping a night on the town with Fraser would do the trick and make it a birthday to remember.

* * *

Wrapped only in a towel, Ray walked into the living room sniffing the air. "I smell pizza."  
  
"Indeed you do, Ray."  
  
"I thought we were going out?"  
  
"I thought you might enjoy this more."  
  
Ray walked over to the table and lifted the box lid, his eyes getting wider. "It's got pineapple! How'd you get Tony to add pineapple?"  
  
"I told him it was your birthday."  
  
"And that was enough?"  
  
"Well, no, but with proper inducement, he relented."  
  
"You bribed him?"  
  
"Persuaded."  
  
"Bribed."  
  
"Convinced."  
  
"Money exchange hands beyond the price of the pizza?"  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"Bribed, Fraser."  
  
"Very well, bribed, but it was still a nice gesture on his part to forego his enforcement of his ban on pineapple in honor of your preferences."  
  
Ray leaned over and got a big whiff of hot pineapple and ham pizza. "Smells good."  
  
"It does."  
  
Fraser had set the table with the nice plates and napkins, even lit a candle. He'd poured Ray a beer in a glass, no bottle in sight. "Guess I don't have to dress up to go out then, huh?"  
  
Red as a beet, Fraser cleared his throat. "What you're wearing if fine, Ray."  
  
"You want me to eat pizza in a towel?"  
  
"It's your home, Ray. You can wear what you want to be comfortable."  
  
Ray cocked his head to one side and studied Fraser for a long moment. The uniform coat was gone, probably hung in the closet like usual, and the white Henley's sleeves were pushed up Fraser's arms. He was sweating, too, little beads of perspiration forming along his upper lip. Fraser never got all hot and sweaty even when he was wrapped in wool and running after a litterbug in the middle of a heat wave. He was always cool, calm, and collected, only now he wasn't. Now he was something Ray couldn't quite put his finger on. "I should probably put some clothes on, Fraser."  
  
"As you wish."  
  
Then Ray went with a hunch, went with his gut. "Unless you want me to keep them off." Fraser's tongue whipped out across his lower lip and his eyes shut for just a moment, not long, but long enough. Ray finally got it, finally saw what he'd been missing. Ray stepped a little closer to Fraser, nearly touching, but not. He whispered, "You want me to keep them off?"  
  
Fraser wouldn't look at him, looked down at the table instead, fingertips touching the edge like he'd fall right over if he let go. "Ray-"  
  
"Ray what?"  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
"How about the truth? You want me to get dressed or not?" Ray knew what he did and said next could make or break what they had. Ray hesitated, but then made his move, because he wanted this, wanted it for a long time. He captured Fraser's chin and eased his partner's face up and met frightened eyes. "You want me, Fraser? Be honest."  
  
"More than you'll ever know."  
  
"Why not say that?"  
  
"Fear mostly."  
  
Eyes locked together, Ray nodded, his whole body buzzed. "Fear, huh? I get that, I totally get that."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Oh, yeah. We've got something special, Fraser, something freakish, but in a good way. We're friends, real buddies. We click and it works and I've never had that with any other partner. If we do this, we take this thing to a whole new level of weird. Are you ready for that?"  
  
"I suppose it would depend on what you think this thing is."  
  
Ray grinned and then his eyes narrowed, focusing in on Fraser's lips. "This is what this thing is." He captured Fraser face with both hands and then kissed him hard only to find himself being kissed back even harder.  
  
Fraser strong arms went around his bare middle, holding Ray tight, before pulling his head back just enough to gasp, "I love you, Ray."  
  
"Yeah? Me, too, love you that is."  
  
"Understood."  
  
As they danced their way to the sofa, Dief ran off to hide in the bedroom. Still kissing, wild and feverish, Ray lost his towel along the way and Fraser took charge. He pushed Ray back against the cushions, eying his prize as he eased Ray's legs apart. His fingers teased the inside of Ray's thighs, tickling, but tingly, too. Ray shuddered with pleasure, his blood racing, his heart pounding way too fast. In a hushed voice, Fraser asked, "May I?"  
  
"Jesus, you don't have to ask."  
  
"It seems only polite."  
  
"Freak."  
  
Instead of arguing, niggling, doing a whole war of words, Fraser smiled and used one hand to stroke Ray's dick several times, the tip leaking. Then Fraser dipped his head down to tease the crown with his tongue, licking and kissing it before taking it inside his mouth. Ray panted faster, the air too thin to do much good for his lungs. He grabbed the top of Fraser's head as it bobbed up and down, the pressure from tongue and lips just right, hot and wet, way better than his dreams, the real deal.  
  
Eyes squeezed shut, Ray's world settled into his crotch, the whirl of pleasure sending rockets up his middle. He'd come in the shower, so instead of shooting off right away, he had time, time to let the heat build, let Fraser's fire bring his blood to a boil. Fraser doubled his efforts, taking Ray's dick in deeper as he fondled his balls. Then a slippery finger slipped into Ray's ass, shoved in just deep enough to hit the right spot, to set off the fireworks. Ray's back arched, release slamming up through his belly, his spine zapped, and lights exploding into brilliant streamers in his head. Everything popped, opened up and then closed down at the same time, every cell checking in with oh, yeah, do that again.  
  
By the time Ray got his breath back, Fraser was licking his way up his middle before settling on the sofa next to him. Ray couldn't speak, but he could see the red, swollen lips all wet and perfect. Using what little strength he could muster, Ray hooked the back of Fraser's neck and drew him in for a long kiss, tasting himself, smelling the musky familiar sweat that said Fraser. When he pulled back, Fraser whispered, his voice all breathy. "Happy birthday, Ray."  
  
Ray snorted and took a second helping of Fraser's kisses before saying thank you, before showing Fraser he could give as good as he got and then some. Acting queer had its perks, and Ray was all for taking advantage, winning the prize that came with falling for a Canadian who did queer better than Ray did.

* * *

The End

* * *


End file.
